


The Glory of Love

by Amymel86



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Cousin Incest, F/M, Glory Hole, Jonsa Smut Week, Mutual Pining, Sex Club, but it's more comical than it is sexy tbh, i both regret nothing AND everything, late entry to smut week, smut week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: I can’t believe I just did that, she thinks as she tugs her underwear back on and practically leaps towards the door, fumbling a bit with the lock.See Sansa, you’re not vanilla, or boring, or frigid!





	The Glory of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wightjon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wightjon/gifts), [Queenofthebees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/gifts), [ScullyLikesScience](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLikesScience/gifts).



> I've hit a new low with this one, folks.
> 
> Started writing for smut week, but tbh it's turned out more funny than sexy so go figure *shrugs*
> 
> Gifting to ScullyLikesScience for encouraging me to use Peter Cetera's Glory of Love as the cheesy title XD  
> Gifting to wightjon because you encouraged me to write the damn thing even though you got a prompt to do practically the same story (you should still do that btw)  
> Gifting to Queenofthebees because you were the first person I went to and said "I shouldn't write this idea should I? There's _no way_ I could make this sexy, is there?" and you were all "do it anyway"... so...ya know... _helpful_
> 
> Beware - probably a lot of typos since I'm living on the edge and posting late.
> 
> ALSO - you guys are gonna hate the ending - ok byeeee

“I _know_ you’re curious, darling,” Margaery chuckled down the other end of the line. Sansa huffed and rolled her eyes. “Besides, it’s about time you upgraded from three-pumps-Harry.”

“You’re a class act, Marge,” Sansa tutted, the familiar feeling of regret bubbling away in her stomach. _Why-oh-why did I have to tell her all about mine and Harry’s sex life?! Too much wine equals bad choices. You’re a big girl now, you should know this._

“Well, how about you come along for moral support?” her friend asked. Sansa could practically _hear_ her pouting down the phone. “It is our opening night after all.”

“What do you want me to do Marge? Hold you hand while you’re… _you know_ …?” Her brows rose skyward even though her friend was not there to witness it. Margaery laughed.

“ _’Fucking’_ , darling. You can use the word. It won’t bite.”

Sansa felt her cheeks flush. Her best friend and her brother, Loras were starting a business venture… a rather unorthodox business venture. ‘Petal & Thorn’ is set to be King’s Landing’s most exclusive, most luxurious, most expensive sex club in the whole of the south. And Sansa wasn’t sure how she felt about it all.

Sure, she knows her friend has a… _‘healthy’_ appetite towards sex. She’s very open about it. She _enjoys_ it. But Sansa has had a different relationship with the happenings between two naked bodies.

It wasn’t that her now ex, Harry, was forceful, or abusive. He was just… selfish. And it had taken Sansa quite a while to figure that out.

She had often wondered what all the fuss had been about when Marge was raving about her latest ‘conquest’, blushing prettily upon hearing about certain ‘acts’ that Harry had never performed on her.

The buzzer for her apartment made her jump, bringing her back to the here and now. “They’re here,” she informed her friend, “look… I’ll think about it, ok?”

“I hope you come around to the idea, darling!” Marge said, “or I may have to make it my life’s work to ensure you have a decent orgasm!”

 _“Goodbye Marge!”_ Sansa ground out before hanging up the call.

Robb, Theon, Arya and Gendry were coming to her apartment this evening as it was Sansa’s turn to host their fortnightly movie night. She greeted them all as they practically fell through her door, reminding them to take off their shoes and directing Theon to put his beers in the fridge. But then, who was to follow them in but their cousin, Jon; their cousin Jon who up until recently had been living at the other end of the country up at Castle Black, their cousin Jon who Sansa can handle seeing only at big family gatherings, their cousin Jon who she’s been half in love with since she were a pre-teen… and, although she’d never admit it to a single soul… their cousin Jon who is the star of her sexual fantasies – the man she used to imagine she was with when Harry climbed on top of her, or whenever she gets her trusty battery-operated friend out of her bottom drawer.

“Hello, Sansa,” he smiles shyly at her, standing at her threshold with a bottle of wine in hand. It was the same wine she drank the last time she saw him at Uncle Benjen’s 60th Birthday party. Sansa told herself that it must just be a coincidence.

“Oh my God!” she beamed, liking the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he answered her smile. Sansa opened her arms to greet him with a somewhat awkward hug whilst simultaneously trying not to deeply inhale the aftershave he wears like a complete and utter lovesick dork. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Oh, er-“ Jon looks to the floor self-consciously before Arya calls out from the lounge where she has undoubtedly already claimed the comfiest spot.

“I forgot to tell you Jon’s moving down here now, Sans! He’s got a new job and everything!”

Sansa looked to Jon with raised eyebrows. He nodded with a small smile to confirm her sister’s hollering.

“Congratulations” Sansa beams, stepping back to let him in, trying to stay the very picture of calm and collected whilst falling apart on the inside.

 _Shit! Shit! Shit! No! He can’t move down here! I’ll see him all the time and it’s just too much!_ Sansa whined internally, biting down on her lip and tilting her head to get a better view of his ass as he entered the lounge in front of her. Jon turned to ask where he should put the wine and she near enough snapped her neck to try and regain her composure.

She flustered and spluttered out some reply about her fridge whilst also feeling her face rapidly turning raspberry red.

_Oh Seven save me!_

_*****_

_Oh Seven save me!_ Jon thought as his outer thigh pressed against his cousin’s. Not just any cousin though, _his cousin Sansa_ – his cousin Sansa who smells like summer jasmine and vanilla, his cousin Sansa whose hair looks so soft he kind of wants to nuzzle his face in it, his cousin Sansa who he thinks of when he’s getting himself off in his morning shower…. His cousin Sansa who he’s been in love with since he was old enough to truly understand what love meant. _Shit._

A film was playing on the screen, but he wasn’t really paying any attention. He was in Sansa’s apartment, surrounded by her pretty things and her scent. Everything felt warm and welcoming and just plain… ‘Sansa’. He kind of wanted to snuggle down and sleep here… well, he’d rather be in her bed and decidedly _‘not’_ sleeping, but that’s neither here nor there.

They were sharing popcorn from a bowl perched half on her thigh and half on his. Every now and again they’d reach at the same time and awkwardly apologise as their knuckles would brush. God, he wanted to hold her hand, to kiss the inside of her wrist to feel her pulse jump under his lips. He wants to feel her pulse throb in other places too.

Something amusing must have happened to one of the movie characters because Sansa giggles beside him, she turns to catch his eye and Jon can’t help but chuckle in return – even though he has no fucking clue what it is he’s meant to be laughing at.

In the low lighting her eyes twinkle and Jon feels himself drawn to the way her teeth sink into her plump bottom lip. _What I wouldn’t give to be the one nibbling on those-_

Arya suddenly announces that she needs to pause the film for a bathroom break and Jon is glad of it. It was all starting to feel stiflingly intimate, despite the four other people in the room.

“C’mon,” Theon says, tapping Jon on the knee, “ciggie break.”

Jon follows him down the winding staircase of Sansa’s apartment block until the night air hits his lungs and he leans his shoulder against the exterior wall. He feels like he can breathe again. Maybe moving down to King’s Landing was a bad idea.

Theon puts a cigarette up to his lips and offers the pack to Jon. He’s been trying to quit, but it’s not going so well. “You heard about Marge’s new business venture with her brother?” Theon asks, cupping the lighter and then taking his first drag. He hands the lighter over to Jon.

“Marge?” Jon asks, the name sounding vaguely familiar.

“Yeah. You know – Sansa’s friend? The mega rich one?”

A pretty face with a saucy smirk comes to mind. “Oh yeah. I know,” Jon says, bobbing his head.

“Well,” Theon says, hands shuffling around in his pockets before he manages to shove something at Jon. “that’s her new business.”

Jon looks down at the folded over, slightly crumpled business card. ‘Petal & Thorn’ it says on one side. He flips it over to read ‘Pleasure of the Night’. There’s no contact details, only a hashtag (or whatever these social media thingies are). Jon frowns down at the thing, the phrase ‘pleasure of the night’ rolling around in his head. “So, what’s the business?” he asks, blowing some smoke out into the night air, “wait… is she a hooker?”

Theon barks out a laugh. “You think I’d be sharing her details with you if she was? Nah,” Jon watches him shake his head. Theon mumbles around his cigarette as he snatches back the business card, “You think if a piece like Marge were offering it out I’d be telling you? Shit, I’d be booking her up faster than you can say _‘unleash the Kraken!’._

Jon took a long drag of his cigarette as his brow furrowed at his friend. “Why would I ever say that, exactly?”

Theon shrugged before trying to smooth out the creases in the little business card. “This,” he said, returning to the subject in hand, “is our ticket to pleasure town.”

Jon blinked at him, none-the-wiser.

“Ok, look,” Theon continued, “Margaery Tyrell and her brother, Loras are opening a swanky club… but not just any kind of club… a sex club.”

Ok, so that did raise one of Jon’s eyebrows. “Right… isn’t that kind of… I dunno… seedy?”

“That’s the best part!” Theon continued, practically bouncing with excitement, “these guys are such snobs that the guest list is really fucking selective! That’s why there’s hardly any advertisement – it’s all super hush-hush. They only let the _‘elite’_ in,” Jon eyed his friend as he made little air-quotes around the word ‘elite’. “I’m telling you man,” he carried on, staring down at the business card like it was the most precious thing in his possession, “they’ll only let the hottest of the hot into this joint. Think of all the pussy we could have!”

“If they only let the _‘elite’_ in… or the _‘hottest of the hot’_ , how the fuck are we getting in, genius?”

Theon waggled his eyebrows. “Margaery owes me.”

“What does that m-“

“C’mon guys!” came a shout from above, they both looked up to see Arya leaning out of Sansa’s window. “We’re gonna start the film again!”

****

“What?!” Sansa yelps, almost burning herself as she artfully manoeuvred the curling iron around her head.

“Calm down darling,” Marge said. Sansa had her on speakerphone whilst she was trying to get ready. “I haven’t said a definite yes.”

“Why – _of all the people_ \- would you let Theon Greyjoy into your club, Marge? Why?!”

“Well, I do kind of owe him a favour,” her friend explained, rather unhelpfully.

“Why?”

“He let me ride his face at your uncle’s party  – what was his name? Bryn? Brendon?”

“ _That_ is hardly the point, Marge!” Sansa gasped.

“Yes, well,” her friend continued as if they were discussing nothing more exciting than the weather, “we snuck off because… well – you know how I get when I’m bored, darling… anyway, he got me off, but we were interrupted before I could return the favour, so-“

“So, you’re just going to let him into your club?”

“It’s a fair trade, don’t you think?”

“Fine. Just don’t ever tell me what he gets up to at your place because I don’t think I have enough brain bleach for that. And make sure he’s not on the guest list for tonight! I don’t want to bump into anyone I know there, Marge! You promised!”

Sansa stood and looked at her outfit in the mirror. She was wearing a simple black dress – perhaps a little shorter than she’s used to, and some long, over-the-knee black socks that she thought were really cute and sexier than what she might normally wear. The skirt to her dress was floaty, the hem landing high on her thighs so that a slither of bare flesh can be seen between sock and dress.

“Alright, alright,” Marge chirped on the other end of the call, “I won’t let him in tonight. You’ll be safe, I promise.”

Sansa hung up the call and spritzed herself with the fancy perfume she saves for special occasions. She’s not quite sure why she’s going through with this, but she does want to be there for her friend, despite the nature of the business.

 _Ok, you can do this, Sansa Stark,_ she tells her reflection before putting on her deep red lipstick and smacking her lips together. _It’s not like you’re actually going to engage with the… activities or whatnot, you’re just there to support your friend and prove that you are not at all vanilla. You. Can. Do. This!_

With that, she pulled on her jacket, flipped out her hair from the collar and fastened the dainty ankle straps on her cute patent leather high heels. She briefly eyed her short skirt but decided she’ll just have to be careful if she bends over.

The club had been both as expected, and surprising too. The lighting was low and the music was mellow. The bar was elegant with the ambiance relaxed. That was, until Margaery hooked an arm around her and dragged her through a door to another area. “That bar is just for staging and – _you know_ – catching your breath between rounds,” her friend smirked at her as she tugged her along. The corridor was decorated completely in pristine white. The walls looked as though they had been upholstered in padding covered with leather and dimpled with rose gold studs, the floor was covered in a luxurious deep carpet and overhead some crystal chandeliers threw out twinkles of light every few paces.  

Margaery was pointing excitedly at rooms as they passed them by. “That is our BDSM area, we have all the latest toys to play with and the walls have mounted restraints,” she informed her with pride, “and here is our group play room for when one partner isn’t enough.” They stopped by a door where Sansa could see that most of the room was taken up by an unbelievably huge mattress, with floaty drapes hung here and there. At the other end of the room, was a tangle of naked bodies. Sansa wasn’t sure exactly how many there were, but it just seemed to be a knot of rutting, writing flesh with some grunting and moaning thrown in for good measure. A rather muscular looking man paused and held out his hand as if beckoning them to join in with the fun. Sansa squeaked and took a step back. Margaery chuckled. “Don’t worry darling, I know you’re a little more… _traditional_ with your tastes.”

That grated on Sansa for some reason. It made her sound boring. “I like to be adventurous too!” she protested.

Marge patted her hand (a little condescendingly if Sansa’s completely honest). “Of course you do, dear,” she commented before tugging her along to look at more areas of her new business.

At some point, Marge deposited Sansa at a bar. It wasn’t the same bar from the ‘staging’ area but seemed to be in a central room with lots of other doors leading off from it.

At first, Sansa decided just to stay put on her high bar stool, sipping her lemon drop and watching a few of the patrons from her perch. Everyone seemed either to be impeccably dressed, or near enough naked and wearing only a crisp white towel flung around their bodies as they venture from room to room.

By the time she was on her third drink, Sansa notices that there’s more and more people milling around. Some of them are clearly here for a certain room and have dressed according to the theme with an abundance of black leather or shiny PVC and some just look like they were attending your average party.

The smooth reception sort of music being played transformed so gradually that Sansa hardly noticed it at all until guests started gathering to dance and sway to the beat of the now thumping base. There was a couple rutting up against the wall and Sansa was pretty sure they weren’t just dry humping since the woman’s skirt was up by her hips and the guy’s trousers had slid down to reveal his bum.

Two attractive looking men came up to the bar next to her. She offered them a friendly smile before ducking her head to sip on her drink. Only a few moments later, when she’d turned back around, she saw them both kissing passionately with the taller of the two reaching down to undo his partner’s pants. Sansa’s eyes widened as the stranger’s fully erect cock was released from its confines.

She should have looked away, but the way the other man was stroking his partner was kind of fascinating. Although she’s sure her face was rapidly turning a shade of red that could match her hair, Sansa continued to watch the saucy display going on right beside her. Harry had never really allowed her to explore him that way, only shoving her hands aside and muttering about her being too gentle. He preferred for her to use her mouth – but even then, she wasn’t the one in control as he would use his hands to guide her head. She felt somewhat inexperienced, despite her experience.

“Want to join in?” one of the amorous couple offered after breaking their heated kiss.

 _Shit,_ she’d been caught staring.

 “I-er…n-no, that’s alright, thank you,” Sansa spluttered, feeling an absolute fool.

_Although, what kind of fool would you be if you tried to join in? What do you know about pleasuring a man?_

She stood quickly from her stool, the bar area shifting slightly making her shake her head. How much has she had to drink again? She needed to get out of here – or, at the very least, she needed to find somewhere less crowed, with less people trying to get off right before her very eyes.

Wandering down a corridor, and then taking another turning, Sansa found herself alone in hallway with 3 doors on either side, all closely cramped together. Tentatively pushing at the first door on her left, she found it opening up into a sort of cubicle. Sansa flicked on the light and eyed the large round backless seat – she supposes it was a bit like a very big pouffe – it was white leather like the walls of the hallway and also dotted with shiny rose gold studs.

Taking a breath, Sansa stepped inside and closed the door, sliding the lock in place too. There were shelves on the back wall of the cubicle, housing all sorts of lotions and potions that probably promised the user ultimate pleasures. Sansa sighed and sat herself down on the large pouffe-thingy, knocking a couple of cushions onto the floor. She eyed those too – leather as well.

 _Easily cleaned, I guess,_ she thought, not quite sure if she wanted to giggle or grimace.

Sansa hung her head, cradling her face in her hands and allowed her artfully tousled locks to fall like a curtain – another layer to seal her off from what was going on beyond that door.

What was she doing here? Who was she kidding? She might as well be a bumbling virgin with how confident she was about sex. Harry had had a way of making her feel stupid, inferior, inexperienced whether it had been their first time together or their fifty-first. He always took over, always dictating what she did to him and how. If only she’d had a more generous partner, more patient, more-

_Shit!_

Sansa squeaked, jumping out of her skin as she just now noticed the saucer sized hole in the wall right next to her – and the fully erect penis now poking through.

Her mouth hung open in shock before her slightly cocktail soaked brain began to piece a few things together. She had originally thought that these little booths would be for couples to lock themselves away and get intimate, but now, as she stared at the rather girthy-looking cock protruding through the wall, she can see that this area was meant for something entirely different.

 _Well, not entirely,_ she mused, biting down on her lip as she continued to eye the cock-with-no-name.

The owner of said penis mumbled something from the other side of the wall, his member starting to retreat from the hole.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked the cock, clamping a hand down over her mouth to stop herself from bursting into a fit of giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation she found herself in.

“I said,” the owner of the penis mumbled through the wall, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to… I just thought… you know… there’s a glory hole and all that… so…”

“Well that does look rather glorious,” Sansa said, the words racing from her throat without her permission. This time both her hands flew to cover her mouth and she felt herself flush fiercely as she continued to stare at her rather impressive looking intruding guest.

The man chuckled softly on the other side of the wall. “But seriously, though, if you don’t want to-“

“Wait,” Sansa called out as she saw him withdrawing. She chewed on her lip, not really sure why she’d stopped him from leaving.

As cocks go - and Sansa’s the first to admit she’s not seen a great deal of them – she thinks this one was kind of… pleasing to look at. Harry’s had been considerably smaller, and always looked an angry shade of red.

Sansa stood, taking the single step to close the gap between her and the imposing appendage. She looked at the wall, trying to imagine the man on the other side.

 _You could picture Jon,_ her baser thoughts whispered, _like you always do._ Sansa felt her tummy flutter and her underwear dampen. She was reminded of his warm thigh pressed against hers a few nights ago at her apartment, how she had wanted to tell everyone to get out and just straddle him then and there. Her eyes fell back down to the impressive looking specimen protruding from the wall. _You could explore and experiment without being watched or judged. No Harry telling you you’re doing it wrong, no hands at the back of your head. And if it all goes terribly, neither of you know who the other person is. There would be nothing to be embarrassed about._

Her hand edged closer and closer until she delicately brushed her fingers on the underside of him. It looked as though he’d shuddered at the contact. Repeatedly running her digits up and down the length of the shaft before curling her hand around him and stroking him up and down, Sansa found a delicious kind of confidence beginning to unfurl. There was a groan from the other side of the wall and a soft sounding thud. Sansa giggled, imagining the unknown man letting his head fall to thump against the wall.

She could do this. She’s not vanilla. She can be adventurous.

***

Jon stumbled into what he thought was a fancy toilet cubicle. Until, that is, he realised there was no toilet present. “Great, another room for fucking,” he mumbled to himself before sighing and sitting down on a large circular padded thing.

He honestly doesn’t know why he let Greyjoy talk him into coming with him to this den of iniquity. He wasn’t looking to get off – even if some of the things he’s witnessed so far have given him a bit of a semi.

Jon had been ready to call it quits at the entrance when the doorman was being difficult and stating that although Greyjoy’s name was on the guestlist, it hade been scribbled out. He was about to drag Theon back down the block to a bar they’d passed on the way when Loras had appeared and Theon somehow managed to convince him that his name being scrubbed off was a mistake.

Well they were now in the inner sanctum for sex and snobbery and quite frankly, these poshos were far too into their BDSM for Jon’s liking.

He’d found a relatively quiet bar having lost Theon to a tryst with a random girl from the Summer Isles along the way. He had planned on staying put, not wanting to venture off and risk seeing Greyjoy in the throes of passion – honestly, why did he agree to come again? – when he’d started downing the shots that the barman lined up for him. He wasn’t even sure what they were, but he needed something to help him forget the fact that he’d overheard Theon asking for nipple clamps.

After a time, Jon had started to feel pleasantly numb. Not overly drunk, but a little lighter in his spirit and his step. He’d begun to wander through the hallways, stopping to stare at what seemed to be two sets of four-somes happening simultaneously. _Does that technically make it an eight-some since it’s happening in the same room? Or is it a gang-bang?_ Jon wondered before shaking his head and moving on.

In another room, a couple were on a bed, the man laying flat on his back whilst a brunette straddled his face, rocking back and forth. Jon licked his lips, content to watch until the woman tried beckoning him over. He’d ducked out of there fast, stumbled down another hall and found himself in this funny little booth-thing.

A hole in the wall caught his eye and realisation smacked him between the eyes. _The dirty bastards even have special glory hole cubicles?!_

Jon peered through the hole to the other side, his breath hitching in his throat at what he saw; a curtain of red hair obscuring the woman’s face. But the red hair was enough for him; it conjured one person in his mind and just the thought of her was enough to give him a boner. _Sansa._

 _Wait. She wouldn’t… would she?_ Jon wondered before tucking the thought away. Sansa was a good girl, she’d never come to a place like this, even if it’s run by one of her friends. She’d certainly never participate. The notion made him both aroused and angered; aroused at the thought of his ‘good-girl’ cousin doing filthy things… angered at the thought of her doing filthy things with other people.

He stood and glared down at the hole in the wall. He couldn’t, could he? Just thrust his cock out and hope for the best? No… he couldn’t so that.

_You could pretend that the redhead is Sansa… like you used to do with Ygritte._

Jon bit back the guilt at the back of his throat. That was unfair of him.

It’s the truth though.

His hands rested on his belt, deliberating. _You’re never gonna be in a place like this again, might as well join in somehow?... But it’s so seedy… and kind of hot._

Before he could chicken out, Jon undid his flies and pushed his jeans and boxers down to his thighs. His cock was already hard at thoughts of his cousin… and now at the thoughts of being touched and possibly sucked off.

_It’s been a while._

Pushing his erection through the hole, Jon was now flush with the wall. He held his breath for a beat or two before huffing it out, the warmth and moisture bouncing off the wall in front of his face and fanning back over his skin. He turned his head and laid his cheek against the cool surface and waited… and waited.

After what seemed like ages, he mumbled an apology and began to retreat. Obviously, the redhead wasn’t interested – which, if he’s honest, dented his pride a bit.

“I’m sorry, what?” came a quiet voice.

Jon cleared his throat and tried again. “I said… you don’t have to if you don’t want to… I just thought… you know… there’s a glory hole and all that… so…”

_Shut up, idiot!_

Jon sighed, fully preparing to retreat and leave the girl alone. “Well that does look rather glorious,” he heard, clearly this time.

Chuckling with relief, Jon felt his shoulders relax. “But seriously, though, if you don’t want to-“

“Wait,” the redhead said, although she still sounded unsure.

He did as he was bid and waited. It was partially agonising and arousing in equal measure. He almost bit his own tongue off when he finally felt the brush of some fingers along the underside of his cock. She seemed to be experimenting with him, changing the rhythm and pressure of her stroke, and that was totally fine with him. His head fell back, enjoying the attention and his own imaginings of Sansa on the other side of that wall.

Once Jon had felt the woman wrap her hand around him and give him a few firmer strokes up and down his length, he let out a groan, his forehead coming to thud against the wall in front of him.

It didn’t take her long to find a delicious rhythm. She was a fast learner, this anonymous redhead. He tried to stay quiet - _but good lord! -_ when she started to get going he was unable to bite back the moans and mumbled praises.

Suddenly, all contact was lost and Jon whimpered into the wall. He half wanted to be able to see what this woman was doing, but also was enjoying the anonymity of it all.

_And it’s easier to pretend it’s Sansa._

“ _Oh fuck, yes,”_ Jon groaned when he felt a warm, wet tongue lick up the underside of him before he seemed to have been enveloped into a welcoming mouth. “Oh god, that’s good,” he shuddered against the wall.

***

Sansa smiled triumphantly at the sound of the man’s praise from the other side of the wall as her hand continued to pump him before she closed her mouth over him again. She took him in as far as she could and sucked harder this time, bobbing her head back and forth and then releasing him once more to lick and swirl her tongue around the head.

“I’m not very practiced at this,” she said, not entirely sure why she’s telling this stranger whose cock she was currently exploring.

“You could’ve fooled me, sweetheart.”

Sansa felt a tingle down her spine at the endearment. She imagined Jon calling her something like that, the thought only spurring her on to take him in her mouth again. She whimpered at the sweet ache between her legs as she became more and more aroused.

A wicked thought suddenly came to mind. _Could she?_

“I want to try something,” she said, standing up from her kneeling position on the floor.

“Anything. I’m all yours… well… one part of me is anyway.”

Sansa giggled and turned around, shimmying her knickers down her legs. She flipped up the skirt of her dress before bending and backing up until she felt the tip of the stranger’s cock press against her wet lower lips.

 _Jon,_ she thought, _think of Jon._

She pushed back, making her imaginary Jon groan as she took him in slowly until her bum pressed against the cool wall.

“Oh god…is that…have you…”

Sansa gasped, partly from the feeling of being filled, and partly from the realisation of what she was actually doing. “Yes,” she confirmed.

“Oh fuck! You feel so good!”

Sansa sighed in agreement before moving forward and bouncing back against the wall, repeatedly taking in the-cock-with-no-name.

 _Jon,_ she confirmed to herself, gasping as she started to bounce back against the wall faster and with more force, _it’s Jon’s cock._ She closed her eyes and pictured him on the other side of the wall, face pinched in pleasure, his teeth sinking into that plump bottom lip of his. Sansa snaked a hand down her body to rub at her clit.

“Shit, sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. I don’t think I can last all that long. _Christ_!” her pretend Jon cursed. Somehow, this thrilled her even further, that what she was doing, without any direction or instruction from someone like Harry was getting this guy off so quickly. She hummed and rubbed between her legs faster, feeling the man begin to rut into her as well as her bouncing back and forth, taking in his length.

There was a loud strangled shout and a series of grunts from the other side of the wall and Sansa deduced that he’d cum – the thought alone of a stranger doing that inside her was what tipped her over the edge. She cried out as powerful waves of pleasure spread out around her body from between her legs – even her toes tingled!

Slowing her movements, Sansa somehow found herself slumped to her knees on the floor, her head and arms resting on the pouffe as she panted into the leather, the evidence of what has just happened slowly trickling down her inner thigh.

Sansa looked back at the hole in the wall, her pretend Jon was gone and she wondered why she was displeased by that. Glancing over to the shelves, she spied some wipes and soft paper towels to help with clearing up the aftermath of these booth’s intended use.

_Always practical, Marge. Always practical._

She paused, waiting a beat or two to listen out for any signs of the stranger she’d just fucked through a wall, panic starting to set in at the thought of bumping into him as they both exited the cubicles.

Sansa eyed the wipes, and then the door. If she makes a run for it now, perhaps she can just leave a message for Marge behind one of the bars and make her way home.

 _I can’t believe I just did that,_ she thinks as she tugs her underwear back on and practically leaps towards the door, fumbling a bit with the lock. _See Sansa, you’re not vanilla, or boring, or frigid! Now just get the fuck out of there before you-_

With one hand yanking open the door, the other suddenly clamps over her mouth as she comes face to face with her cousin Jon as he exits the booth beside hers.

“ _Sansa?!”_ he gasps, mouth hung open, hands stilled as they were pulling up the flies of his jeans.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a man who would fight for your honor,  
> I'll be the hero you're dreaming of.  
> We'll live forever, knowing together  
> that we did it all for the glory of love!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Also - if anyone is wondering, Sansa is on birth control and the club wont let you in without a clean std check (basically I'm lazy and tired and cba with making it more realistic)


End file.
